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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 29-May 15:07:08 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 146727
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => ODERINT DUM METUANT.
[time] => 2008-12-09 01:01:56
[hometext] => let them hate as long as they fear
[bodytext] => ODERINT DUM METUANT. Oderint dum Metuant, The most amusing thing about the damned, There is no one who can condemn. A mixing of the us and the them. There is no where else to belong Except here with the beer swilling throng. There is no one there to care else but yourself Friday evening, nobbing with the working elves. Bare and alone Chilling to marrow and bone. No where else to go No other mask or pretence No safety nor rest. No-, no none. When will it, they, I, be heard? Let slip the little deaths And no God equals A no good ende. Smiling skulls and the cult of death The door dog rabid on Crystal meth. Think outside the box - they say. What does that mean? Does it mean reaching for the brass ring? Follow your nose - I guess thats the thing. A coffin maybe, let the dead bury the dead and bring up the baby. Dead now, the snow blind night Slips away. As midst the... (indestinguishable)... Noises of tin can rock, raukus glass burbling murmer and laughter. This Chaos, my hero. Lets have another. Amoungst the damned. Let them hate, as long as they fear. Remember that. And if you can, buy them the next round of beer. [comments] => 2 [counter] => 177 [topic] => 64 [informant] => Incognito_Bombastus [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 4 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => ambiguous )
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